


sealing vows

by yadoiangel



Series: The Wedding Trilogy [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beach House, Biting, Bottom Miya Atsumu, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Sex, Hair-pulling, Honeymoon, M/M, Morning Sex, Praise Kink, SakuAtsu NSFW Week, Sakusa Kiyoomi is a Tease, They're Sappy AF, Top Sakusa Kiyoomi, atsumu is a mess, but he's Sakusa's mess, really sweet tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26892367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yadoiangel/pseuds/yadoiangel
Summary: “Shh, don’t worry. I got you,” he whispered when Atsumu whimpered again, his hand firm and fast on his dick as his other reached up to steady Atsumu’s face, “I’m here, ‘Tsumu. You can let go. You’re gonna be a good boy and come for me, aren’t you?”Or where Sakusa Kiyoomi does good on his vows the first opportunity he could.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: The Wedding Trilogy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923823
Comments: 9
Kudos: 312
Collections: SakuAtsu NSFW Week





	sealing vows

**Author's Note:**

> I gave you angst, I gave you fluff, now is the time for smut. Vanilla, emotional, sappy smut, but smut nonetheless.  
>    
>  Also embarrassingly late for NSFW SakuAtsu week but hey, do I look like I care? I fit in a lot of prompts of here, too, so enjoy!  
>    
>  Also a big thank you to [Nation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsNationJoy) for beta-reading the heck outta this fic! Please check out their works!

Kiyoomi woke up to the sensation of eyes on him.

His waking up process was slow—consciousness slowly washed over him like waves of the ocean. One by one his senses would once again become aware of outside stimuli, like systems coming online. Still, he would keep his eyes closed in a futile attempt to stave off the morning. Of course, it doesn’t work, and eventually his natural inclinations forced him to open his eyes—to a staring Atsumu.

“Good mornin’,” Atsumu greeted, grinning at him. He had a hand pillowed under his arm, and he was just on his side facing Kiyoomi like he’d been in that position for far longer than the wing spiker wanted to think about.

“Morning, ‘Tsumu. What are you doing?” Kiyoomi croaked out, his throat still taking its time trying to get used to talking again.

“Nothin’. What makes ya think I’m doin’ anythin’?” Atsumu replied, keeping up that lazy grin.

“I meant, why are you lying there just staring at me?” Kiyoomi’s voice got stronger, his usual snark not quite coming back but already rearing its head in the way he rolled his eyes at the blonde.

“I rarely see ya without yer mask, Omi. Can’t ya give me this?” Atsumu asked softly, smile turning lopsided when the raven-haired man only clicked his tongue, which was his version of showing that he was flustered.

“It’s creepy, ‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi deadpanned, internally checking to see if his body was ready to get up yet.

“It ain’t!” Atsumu chuckled out, “It’s my right as yer husband, _Miya Kiyoomi._ I can look at ya any way I want, anytime I want to,” he added, just piling on the compliments until he could see Kiyoomi blush pink—it was still a feat for him.

“Shut up,” Kiyoomi said lightly, reaching out a hand to turn Atsumu’s face away from his, but the blonde only caught it, more alert than the recently woken up wing spiker.

“Here, shut me up,” Atsumu murmured, leaning over to kiss the other, but Kiyoomi only used his other hand to hold the setter’s face at bay.

“You’ve been lying there for who knows how long and you didn’t think of brushing your teeth?” Kiyoomi said disapprovingly, staring at Atsumu’s squished face.

“Omi,” Atsumu whined around the fingers covering his mouth, “Can’t you let me do this at least once?” he pouted—or as much as he could anyway.

“No,” Kiyoomi answered shortly, finally pushing him off and sitting up on the bed, “Go brush your teeth first,” he pointed Atsumu towards the bathroom, staring him down.

“Man, Omi, the first morning on our honeymoon an’ ya do this to me already,” Atsumu told him, stomping towards the bathroom like a five-year-old, “I haven’t even done anything more than kiss ya!” he screamed from inside the other room.

“You knew that when you married me ‘Tsumu, and you’re the one who wanted to get here as quick as possible, so suffer,” was all Kiyoomi said, shaking his head as he allowed a fond smile to appear on his face in the absence of his insufferable husband.

What Atsumu said was true. They haven’t done anything other than kiss for the amount of time it took them to get back together, and when they did, they decided to wait until the wedding for anything more. What Kiyoomi said was also true, though—Atsumu insisted on driving through the night to the beach house in Hamamatsu that they rented for their honeymoon, so when they arrived they were too tired for anything more than sleep.

Kiyoomi looked around, appreciating the master bedroom. It was an amazing find, he had to admit. Atsumu’s former-high-school-volleyball-captain-turned-Osamu’s-rice-dealer Kita-san suggested it, and the two of them just shrugged in acceptance since they didn’t exactly have an idea for where to honeymoon, too preoccupied with planning the wedding itself.

The room was painted in the soft pastel blue colors of the ocean outside, decorated here and there with decals of seashells and flowers. It was the same theme as the rest of the house, and as much as Kiyoomi would’ve liked to find it _too much,_ in the context of their honeymoon and more than that—their reunion with each other—he just found it perfect.

 _Since when did I get so sappy?_ he wondered to himself, getting out of bed to join Atsumu at the bathroom counter.

“The things I do fer ya, Omi,” Atsumu muttered at him around his toothbrush when he saw the taller man.

Kiyoomi said nothing, moving to brush his teeth as well. He looked into the bathroom mirror at the two of them, opposite hands at work with their toothbrush. The sight ignited something fiercely warm and tender in his chest, tightening up around his torso.

It was always in moments like these that it would hit Kiyoomi the most—he almost lost this. He almost lost these quiet moments with Atsumu, the ones where they just existed with each other, taking comfort in the fact that they weren’t alone and the trust that they had in each other to always be there to share these moments.

Kiyoomi told himself to remember, to be grateful for the “almost” in between the words; to be grateful for the second chance he got at a shot at happiness; to be grateful, most of all, for Atsumu’s forgiveness.

“What’re ya lookin’ so ashamed fer?” Atsumu asked after a spit, looking at him curiously.

“I’m not looking like anything,” Kiyoomi denied, looking at his husband like he was crazy. He _was_ feeling a little bit ashamed, though.

“Nuh uh, dontcha do that,” Atsumu pointed his brush at the wing spiker, shaking his head and getting toothpaste froth everywhere, “Ya promised me yer gonna start talkin’ to me more.”

“Stop that! You’re gonna clean that up, you dumbass,” Kiyoomi scolded before turning to the sink, wanting to finish up brushing his teeth before continuing this conversation.

“And don’t change the conversation, too,” Atsumu added, rolling his eyes as he finished up too. Kiyoomi only held up a finger at the blonde, gargling water.

“I didn’t plan to, just, please, don’t do that again,” Kiyoomi grimaced into the mirror, making Atsumu roll his eyes again and mutter a “Fine, neurotic asshole,” to himself.

“You married this neurotic asshole,” Kiyoomi reminded him, taking a towel to wipe away the remaining water off his face.

“Yes, with that same neurotic asshole who promised me that he’d work on fuckin’ _talkin’_ when he married me, too,” Atsumu scolded him, taking the towel from his hands and throwing it over his back. He then grabbed Kiyoomi’s hips and turned him to face Atsumu, caging him in between the sink and his body with his arms. “So what’ll it be, husband of mine?”

“Tch. I regret marrying you,” Kiyoomi muttered, turning his face away from the blonde’s direct, perceiving stare.

“Too late. No take-backs, Omi. Yer stuck with me,” Atsumu murmured, leaning closer to run his lips up the part of Kiyoomi’s neck he inadvertently exposed when he looked away.

“What are you, five?” Kiyoomi looked back at him to scoff, and it was the perfect moment for Atsumu to snake up one hand to hold his chin there, his other hand wrapping around the taller man’s waist, tightening his hold on Kiyoomi so that their hips were flush together.

“No more horsin’ around, Omi. Why were ya lookin’ so down at the mirror when ya were watchin’ us?” Atsumu reached his lips right after he said this, soft touches sending shivers down both their spines.

“Geez, ‘Tsumu, you really know how to interrogate a man, huh?” Kiyoomi huffed out, feeling so witless with the way Atsumu was touching him—he missed this.

“Yer not gonna get kissed until you answer, Omi, so I suggest ya start talking,” Atsumu said teasingly. He ran a hand through Kiyoomi’s hair, tipping his head backward so he could hover over the wing spiker’s lips, occasionally brushing them together, tempting Kiyoomi.

“Alright, alright, ‘Tsumu, just let me breathe for a sec, geez,” Kiyoomi relented, letting his head go so it’d sink into Atsumu’s hand and he wouldn’t have to stare into the setter’s eyes when he admitted his guilt and fear, “I was just thinking about how I’d almost lost this,” he muttered.

“What’s _this?_ ” Atsumu asked, running down Kiyoomi’s exposed neck with his lips again to the other’s collarbones, sucking light kisses into the skin.

“You,” Kiyoomi gasped out, closing his eyes and giving up on resisting the blonde, “I was thinking about how I almost lost you, lost everything that’s _us_ to each other _,_ and how I’m so grateful that you gave me a second chance,” he finished, sighing in contentment at being within Atsumu arms again.

“Man, m’gonna miss this,” Atsumu chuckled onto his neck, and Sakusa looked down to see the setter already staring up at him.

“What?” Kiyoomi asked, a bit sharper than intended.

“Ya, bein’ softer than usual,” Atsumu said, pulling up Kiyoomi’s head so he could rest his forehead against his husband, “M’gonna miss it ‘cause I know once we’re back in the city yer gonna go back to being a too-blunt jerk,” he added, smiling at the cross-eyed stare Kiyoomi was aiming at him.

“Since when are you so sappy, Miya?” Kiyoomi teased, chucking with absolute happiness at feeling Atsumu’s love for him once again.

“Which Miya’re ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Atsumu shot back, pulling them closer as if there was any space between them from before.

“You’re gonna be unbearable about that, aren’t you?” Kiyoomi asked with a roll of his eyes, standing up so he could tip Atsumu back, reversing their positions.

“What’re ya gonna do about it?” Atsumu challenged, letting Kiyoomi take the lead.

“This,” the wing spiker answered, then he pressed his lips to the blonde’s.

Atsumu was more than ready, surging up to meet him halfway, too enthusiastic that Kiyoomi had to bite down in reprimand, but that only made Atsumu moan. Kiyoomi snaked a hand into the setter’s hair, lightly pulling backwards so he could control the kiss. He started them out slow, slotting their lips together before moving their heads this way and that way because _of course_ Atsumu wouldn’t stay still, not even with a hand at his head.

Kiyoomi tightened his hold on both the waist and hair, leaning more into Atsumu so he’d have to strain to stay on his feet—giving up control of the kiss to the taller man, who only made a sound of approval. 

Atsumu felt Kiyoomi’s tongue lick over his mouth and he opened up, his own tongue all too excited to be used. He was swept up in the rush of the kiss; in the taste of the mint and of Kiyoomi; in the scent he got each time he inhaled the muted citrus from their shower last night, the woody scent of his hair not having dried properly before he went to bed, the undeniable smell of something Atsumu could only label as _Kiyoomi_ invading his senses—in the feel of his arms around his waist keeping them flush together and the other in his hair, twisting and pulling in a vain attempt to keep him contained. Atsumu was _saturated_ with the feeling of Kiyoomi and he was reveling in it.

“Mhm, kissin’s all well an’ good, Omi, but I miss you,” Atsumu mumbled, his voice more slurred than usual.

“I’m right here,” Kiyoomi whispered, feathering light kisses along Atsumu’s jaw, sucking red spots when he got to the blonde’s neck.

“C’mon, Omi, ya know what I mean,” Atsumu whined, his hand bunching up the back of Kiyoomi’s shirt.

“I don’t, actually,” Kiyoomi answered, tone deliberately calm as he continued leaving bruises along Atsumu’s neck, each one getting darker and darker as he lost a little more control.

“ _Omi,_ ” Atsumu groaned at a particularly harsh bite, head lolling and hips twitching, causing their arousals to rub against each other. It made Kiyoomi moan at the back of his throat as well.

“Tell me what you want, Atsumu,” Kiyoomi demanded gently into the setter’s skin, eyes taking in the damage he’s already done.

“ _You,_ Omi. I want _you,_ ” Atsumu mewled, “Wanna feel ya inside me again, wanna see ya go crazy like ya used to, wanna taste yer cum, please, please, please,” he rambled, urging Kiyoomi further with his hands travelling down to the wing spiker’s ass and grinding up, making Kiyoomi’s breath hitch.

“You should’ve just said that from the start,” Kiyoomi panted, then crashed his lips onto Atsumu’s again, this time with bruising force.

He pulled Atsumu up, pushing him backward out of the bathroom to the bedroom again, all the while never separating from the kiss. He swallowed Atsumu’s gasp when he pushed the blonde onto the bed and swallowed Atsumu’s moans when he straddled him, grinding his ass down.

“Yes,” Atsumu’s voice was already blissed out, breathy and strained at the same time. It was music to Kiyoomi’s ears—he really missed this, too.

He sat up to take his shirt off before doing the same to Atsumu, eyes raking down the newly exposed and unblemished skin of his torso and almost salivating with the need to mark Atsumu up.

“I missed you, too,” he said instead, waiting first before he “went crazy” like Atsumu wanted him to.

“Then do somethin’ about it, Omi,” Atsumu pouted at the loss of Kiyoomi’s torso on his, looking up at him with hooded, hungry eyes, pulling at Kiyoomi’s hips as if they could be any closer than they already were.

“You’re as impatient as ever, ‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi commented drily, running blunt nails down Atsumu’s torso.

“Jesus, Omi, will ya stop bein’ a tease and just fuck me?” Atsumu huffed, trying to thrust his hips up, but with Kiyoomi’s legs caging him in there was only so much he could do. Still, what little he _could_ do seemed to get him the reaction he wanted—Kiyoomi leaned down and caught his chin in a harsh hold, his other hand pinching a nipple hard, making the blonde whimper.

“My terms, ‘Tsumu,” he said, threatening mirth in his smile as he watched Atsumu’s eyes dilate and his throat work on a gulp, “Or have you forgotten your place, huh?” he added, delighted at the slight panic that showed on Atsumu’s face as he tried to answer.

“No, no, no, I wouldn’t, Omi, ya know that. It’s just…” Atsumu panted out when Kiyoomi trailed his fingers down one side of his neck, raising goosebumps on his skin.

“Just what, ‘Tsumu?” Kiyoomi prompted when Atsumu didn’t continue.

“It’s just—it’s hard to think when yer lookin’ at me like that, Omi,” Atsumu whined, once again bucking up. This time he managed to rub against Kiyoomi’s ass, making the wing spiker lean down and bite into Atsumu’s shoulder in surprise.

“Fuck yes, Omi,” Atsumu cried out, continuing with his small and sharp thrusts, until Kiyoomi ground down on him.

“What did I just say, ‘Tsumu?” Kiyoomi asked disapprovingly, clicking his tongue.

“Tell me ya didn’t like it,” Atsumu dared, his lazy grin making an appearance when Kiyoomi wasn’t able to deny it.

Kiyoomi bit him again in the same spot, wiping that grin off of Atsumu’s face without even touching his mouth.

“I haven’t had you in almost two years, ‘Tsumu. I don’t want it to end too soon, and I’m sure you don’t either. Just savor it, will you?” Kiyoomi whispered into Atsumu’s skin as he went down from his shoulder to idly lap his tongue around a nipple, making the setter squirm.

“Two fuckin’ years, Omi, and yer still makin’ me wait fer it.” Atsumu then tried using a different tactic: forcing Kiyoomi into giving in, guilt-tripping him. “How can ya be so cruel to yer husband, huh?”

“Hmm. Give me at least two hours before you start calling me cruel, ‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi quietly laughed, turning to the other nipple and breathing on it while a hand snaked down to the waistband of Atsumu’s boxers, catching the blonde off-guard and making him gasp.

“ _Omi,_ ” Atsumu breathed out, golden eyes disappearing behind closed lids as he pushed his groin up into Kiyoomi’s waiting hand.

“I know,” Kiyoomi answered, mouth finally covering one nipple as he cupped Atsumu outside his underwear, mapping out his hard on before he did anything else. “You’re being so good for me, ‘Tsumu, just like that,” he added when Atsumu groaned out loud.

“Fuck, Omi, how long’re ya gonna make me wait, huh?” Atsumu complained, getting more frustrated when Kiyoomi refused to go further inside his boxers, “I know you wanna fuck me too, so why don’tcha just do it? We have the rest of the month fer yer scheming.”

“I don’t care about the rest of the month. I’m gonna fuck you on my own time and you’re just gonna have to wait for that,” Kiyoomi told him, punctuating his words with a bite to Atsumu’s nipple and making him cry out, and while he was distracted, Kiyoomi finally took hold of his dick with a firm hand.

“Fuck you, Omi,” Atsumu hissed out even as his hips moved along with Kiyoomi’s slow, tight strokes.

“That’s the idea, ‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi told him with a chuckle, twisting his hand around as he went up and down on Atsumu’s shaft, spreading the pre-come already there.

“Gods, feels good,” Atsumu said, goosebumps once again decorating his arms and torso when Kiyoomi moved down his body and ghosted his lips over his happy trail, leaving a wet line with the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah?” Kiyoomi encouraged, finally reaching the base of Atsumu’s dick. He let his breath touch over the shaft to the head, and he smirked when Atusmu let out a broken gasp at the sensation.

“Yeah, Omi, ya feel so good,” Atsumu mumbled, grabbing onto the sheets beside him while the other reached down to bury itself in Kiyoomi’s hair, pushing him towards his dick.

“Nope, what do I always say about hands?” Kiyoomi scolded him, removing his hand and placing it under Atsumu.

“But Omi,” Atsumu groaned, looking down on the taller man. “Lemme touch ya, please,” he begged, eyes imploring.

“You’ll get your chance later,” Kiyoomi said playfully, nuzzling his face into Atsumu’s dick.

The sight was so obscene to Atsumu—proper, stoic, mysophobic Miya Kiyoomi voluntarily rubbing his face on a dick? Atsumu could only groan out loud, wanting so much to just grab Kiyoomi’s head and bury his dick in the other’s mouth.

“Fuck, Omi. Yer killin’ me over here,” Atsumu said, covering his eyes with an arm instead, trying to get himself under some semblance of control or else he’d come too soon. And, well, as much as he’d love that, he also didn’t want to spoil his husband’s fun.

“That’s a tall order, ‘Tsumu, but I’ll try my best to comply,” Kiyoomi answered him, and then he opened his mouth.

“Wha— _fuck_ ,” Atsumu groaned again. His entire body tensed up as Kiyoomi engulfed the head of his dick with his mouth. Atsumu’s hand tightened in the sheets, getting lost in the sensation.

Kiyoomi looked up at his husband’s blissed out face as he did this, sucking lightly as his hand continued its up and down motion on Atsumu’s shaft, rhythm slow. He could tell Atsumu was already close, and he wasn’t surprised. Kiyoomi _had_ done a lot more teasing than usual, and he knew that Atsumu wasn’t used to this anymore, not after almost two years. 

It gave Kiyoomi a rush of hunger, making him take more of Atsumu into his mouth. He was mesmerized by how the setter lost coherency under him一hips undulating in uneven thrusts and mouth babbling out gibberish in between moans and groans. 

Atsumu was beautiful like this: vulnerable and trusting and so _wanton._ It made Kiyoomi ache to be inside him.

He used his other hand to grab the bottle of lube from the bedside table, going faster with his other hand on Atsumu’s dick. He pulled his mouth off to pepper soft kisses and kitten licks down to Atsumu’s balls, mouthing at them as he readied the lube, waiting for it to heat before he touched a slick finger to Atsumu’s taint.

“Omi, god, please, no more teasin’,” Atsumu’s voice was desperate, his hips gyrating much more raggedly.

“You look beautiful like this, ‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi commented, running that same finger up around his balls and down again before circling Atsumu’s hole, “You dance so prettily for me.”

“Only fer ya, Omi,” Atsumu answered automatically, spreading his legs more in anticipation.

“You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna take my fingers like a good boy, right?” Kiyoomi continued, focusing his movements on jacking off Atsumu and finally pushing in his finger, following when the blonde bucked up his hips suddenly.

“Ngh—yes, yes, I’ll be yer good boy,” Atsumu said breathlessly, his hands going to his own hair to pull at it, burying his head into the mattress at the same time.

He was nearly mindless with the pleasure now, Kiyoomi noted, and it just made him crave for the other more. He pushed in another finger and scissored right away, eyes flitting from Atsumu’s face to his chest down to where his hands were and back up again, enjoying the show he was making Atsumu put on for him.

“You take my fingers so well, ‘Tsumu. Did you miss them?” Kiyoomi asked, his voice getting hoarser now too, drying up with need.

“Please, Omi, please, please, please, _please,_ ” was all Atsumu said, and from the way his legs were also pushing into the mattress—the way they were so strained—Kiyoomi finally took pity on him.

“Please what? Use your words, ‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi instructed, taking the hand that was still on Atsumu’s dick off to undo the drawstring of his own pants. Atsumu’s eyes flew open to look at Kiyoomi and instinctively cried out at the loss, but he was quickly appeased to see where the hand had gone.

“I’m ready, please fuck me, please, Omi. I needja, please,” Atsumu chanted, his abs flexing along with the way he squeezed around Kiyoomi’s fingers. That was what broke the wing spiker’s control at last.

Kiyoomi took away his hands from Atsumu’s hole to place them on the spot where his thighs met his hips, spreading him more even as he pulled the setter closer to him. He went to a kneeling position between his legs, letting his length loll for a bit, aiming to make their dicks touch as he leaned down for a kiss.

“Show me how much you need me,” Kiyoomi whispered when he let up for air, taking hold of both their members still with his other hand while Atsumu gyrated his hips, dick moving through the slickness of Kiyoomi’s hand, rubbing against his.

“Omi,” Atsumu whined, hips continuing their motion even as he spread his thighs more, “Omi, please. Ya’ve opened me up now, so don’tcha wanna fuck me? Don’tcha wanna be in me again? ‘Cause I do… heck I _need_ you in me. Omi, please, please, please, I can’t wait anymore.”

“So shameless,” Kiyoomi responded drily, idly sucking another bruise on the side of Atsumu’s neck and making the blonde cry out, his hand tightening around their dicks.

“Only fer _you,_ ” Atsumu replied, which earned him a bite, making him mewl out.

“You ready for me then, huh, ‘Tsumu?” Kiyoomi asked, past the point of restraint. All he wanted to do was what Atsumu was asking him to do too.

“Been ready thirty minutes ago, babe,” came Atsumu’s cheeky answer, and for that Kiyoomi levered up on him. It left no part of their bodies touching, making Atsumu almost growl in frustration at the loss.

“Wrong answer, ‘Tsumu,” Kiyoomi said, chuckling when Atsumu glared at him—well, tried to glare at him. He was looking too wrecked to be threatening anyone, and Kiyoomi, delighted in his attempts, grinned down at his husband while surreptitiously trying to ready himself for finally entering Atsumu.

“C’mon, Omi! What else d’ya wanna hear huh? I’m literally spreadin’ myself open fer ya! I’ve begged! Please, Omi, just _please—_ ” Atsumu ranted, but he was cut off by Kiyoomi thrusting into him in one smooth motion.

Atsumu gasped and pulled the wing spiker down to him, nails digging into the middle of Kiyoomi’s back as he tried to control the trembling of his lower half. Kiyoomi was doing the same, staying still as he could to stave off the orgasm that almost came over him at the sensation of the setter’s warmth around him.

“Motherfuckin’ asshole,” Atsumu bit out, his breaths heavy as he wrapped his thighs around Kiyoomi’s hips.

“Don’t you mean Miya-fucking asshole?” Kiyoomi asked with a chuckle, his voice muffled what with his mouth buried in the blonde’s neck.

“Haha, very funny _,_ ” Atsumu deadpanned, clenching down on him and making Kiyoomi hiss and close his eyes, “Such a fuckin’ tease, Omi.”

“If you’d been good from the start I wouldn’t have taken as long as I did,” Kiyoomi whispered, licking up a path towards Atsumu’s mouth, still not moving against the other.

“C’mon, Omi, _move,_ ” Atsumu begged, and at the same time that Kiyoomi’s lips reached his, the wing spiker did as the setter asked.

Slowly at first, as if savoring the feel of being inside his husband again, Kiyoomi rocked his hips, dick dragging through Atsumu’s hole in the way he remembered drove the blonde wild for more. Their kisses became progressively sloppier, tongue and spit making more of an appearance the longer Kiyoomi went at him at a snail’s pace.

“You feel so good, ‘Tsumu. So warm and tight around me. You love being opened like this, don’t you? Only I can make you feel this good, isn’t that right?” Kiyoomi rambled breathlessly against his lips, watching as his words sank down into Atsumu’s core.

“Fuck, Omi, _yes,_ ” Atsumu whimpered, voice broken, and at that Kiyoomi sped up, knowing it wouldn’t be long now.

He levered up over Atsumu, one hand going to his hip while the other snaked up to Atsumu’s mouth, putting two fingers in the setter’s mouth.

“You look so pretty like this, so undone and _vulnerable._ Only for me. You don’t know what that does to me, do you, ‘Tsumu?” Kiyoomi continued as he massaged his fingers against Atsumu’s tongue, angling his hips along with Atsumu’s so that he was hitting the blonde’s prostate, making him cry out through the wing spiker’s hand.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I get all this to myself,” Kiyoomi said, looking at where his dick was disappearing inside Atsumu and speeding up, “I’m such a lucky bastard, aren’t I?” he continued, taking out his spit-drenched fingers and taking hold of Atsumu’s dick, derailing whatever it was Atsumu wanted to say.

“Shh, don’t worry. I got you,” he whispered when Atsumu whimpered again, his hand firm and fast on his dick as his other reached up to steady Atsumu’s face, “I’m here, ‘Tsumu. You can let go. You’re gonna be a good boy and come for me, aren’t you?” he asked, eyes boring into Atsumu’s teary ones, watching for the moment when his husband _does_ let go, waiting for the glazing over and the crying out and the tight, almost painful hold on his shoulders.

With his thrusts and his hand going as they were, he didn’t have to wait long. A few more moments and Atsumu went over the edge, and Kiyoomi was overcome with the pleasure of that and something else, too. It was their first time in two years, and at least in this aspect of their lives nothing has changed—Atsumu still trusted him. He still let him in the way he used to. It was enough to ignite something warm and tender in Kiyoomi’s chest, and it made him groan out loud. It was enough for him to chase his own orgasm, fucking Atsumu through his.

He came while biting at Atsumu’s neck, the blonde pushing away his hands off the shaft he was still pumping through the oversensitivity Atsumu must be feeling; after that his strength left him and he collapsed on top of his husband, cum and sweat layered between them.

“Yer so unfair, Omi,” Atsumu panted out.

“What the hell was so unfair about that, Miya?” Kiyoomi panted out, only managing to lift his head to look disbelievingly at the setter.

“Ya just start talkin’ and I’m fuckin’ gone,” Atsumu complained, moving Kiyoomi aside so his chest could take in deep breaths, “Can’t even say shit back. So unfair.”

“Why the hell are you pouting?” Kiyoomi laughed, threatening to wipe the hand with Atsumu’s cum on it on his face, “Not satisfied with this now?”

“Ya know what I mean, Omi,” Atsumu muttered, but Kiyoomi could see a smile just under the surface, so he let it go.

“C’mon, get up. We’re gross,” Kiyoomi said as he sat up on the bed, but he was held back by Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t go yet,” Atsumu said with a pout, and Kiyoomi only rolled his eyes at the setter, but he settled in against his side nonetheless.

He did promise that he’d always be there for his husband. He might as well start now.

**Author's Note:**

> This marks the end of the wedding trilogy. Thank you for reading, and come scream at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/yadoiAnghel) about it!


End file.
